Recovery from Grace
by APH Teutonic Knights
Summary: The Avengers weren't expecting a new teammate. Nor did they think he was going to be a 14 year old hybrid, tortured for years. However, they were surprisingly happy to take care of their new team member. It would just be a long time before he recovered, a long time before he got over it. The GIW really weren't nice. Now rated M. Torture, Gore, Mental factors.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi there, people of the internet. I'm continuing my other stories, don't worry. I just have many plot bunnies, and some of them I consider publishable. Kind of. Well, this is an AU, and the extents of the difference will be explored. I will say for now that there is no Phantom Planet, no Dani, the Dan thing goes a lot differently, and Danny is going to be very OOC. Although, he's been tortured brutally, so hey. For the Avengers side of the AU, nothing past the first movie. Sorry, all you fans of Bucky (I am too), but I'm not a fan of Civil War (Sorry) because I simply want them all to get along. So no members other than the first ones, and there will be an ease in tension between them all. I'll warn you now, I don't plan to have ships with Danny, and not really any with the Avengers, although I'll include many familial moments. Maybe some things for ships other than with Danny. If you squint really, really hard, that kind of thing. I'll try. Romance isn't my forte. Anyway! Hope you all like the story, and no, I don't own Avengers or Danny Phantom. If I owned Avengers, there would be a daily life TV show for them. And Danny Phantom would have a realistic remake, maybe. If they did it really, really well.**

 **Onwards!**

Amity Park had been destroyed years ago. A random boiler explosion had sparked a more massive explosion throughout the town and surrounding areas, leaving no survivors. Except one, and he wasn't really surviving. In fact, he was more than half dead. Danny Fenton had miraculously survived the explosion with minimal injury, due to his ghost half, Phantom. However, the explosion and loss of everyone he had ever known and cared about, even Vlad, who had been in town, and beyond those who were in the ghost zone, had stunned him. As he lay in the rubble, the Men in White had found him. -He wasn't even sure what he thought, though. A few months back, he might have cared more about their deaths, although he still did, but after what he had been through-. And he made no moves to escape their capture.

It had been a long time, Danny knew, but he hadn't aged. Not physically. Mentally, he hadn't except for the horrors he had put through. He wasn't thinking straight after the first time they took a scalpel to him and cutandcutandcut his chest open- the y line he knew was there, on his chest, they were opening his chest and digging out his lungs and heart and everything and putting it back in and oh god he couldn't nononononono, he couldn't think about that even though they were testing choking him right now, hands rough against his neck. He didn't need to breathe thank god but they left bruises and scars they had put razors against his neck too but it didn't work and all he wanted was to die properly.

He knew something was wrong, too, and while the hands just clenched tighter and tighter around his neck, cloaked in gloves but all he could think about was that his access to his human form had lapsed since the first few times he had transformed here in the labs, and they hadn't cared at all, just all the more cutting and sawing and muttering about how they loved an interesting specimen… they knew he was at least part human, but they seemed to only hate him more and slice and dice, and they were getting the whip out now, not satisfied with his reaction to the choking. Sadists. He would've sassily said something, but held it in cause he just couldn't really do that, not anymore, too horrified really and traumatised, and he had come to expect the worst when he even moved at the wrong time, let alone spoke, and besides, his accelerated healing was too busy with restoring the arm they had cut off and nonono don't think about the buzz saw cuttingcuttingcutting straight through his arm, but it had already regrown to his elbow in not long, surely not a half hour, and it had happened so many times to all of him no painkillers just their smiles and his screams that they enjoyed he knew that they knew he could feel it he knew he knew he knew and they didn't care.

They were hitting him with the whip now, but his mind had drifted back to his earlier thoughts, ignoring the vile remarks and threats and filth spewing from their mouths. He knew he still had the smallest living portion left inside him, he knew because of the experiment in which they had used a new plasmius maximus that had cut him off from that human side for days hours who knew how long who cared how long it stayed the same always and he screamed but no he didn't his throat was too damaged so it wasn't him, someone else but it wasn't, because there was no one that would scream for him because he was a filthy little piece of trash wasn't he- no, that was just the people in white's words eating away at him, he couldn't give in- he already had though. He didn't care. He hadn't for a long time now. The more his human side had slipped away the less he cared, the more he died over and over and over too much. He knew he was still Danny Fenton, he could feel it, but he couldn't turn back, and his heart didn't beat and he would catch himself not breathing, he didn't age either, and he knew his body temperature was far too low from the few times he had actually had human touch.

He was far more Phantom now, and he wouldn't have minded if he was out of the place, and he didn't care now anyways cause they didn't and who would no one cared no one not even the ones who liked him once his family his friends all betrayed him in the end they didn't care not even him he just couldn't.

The pain had stopped, he realized, and he looked up, through bangs of ethereal white hair, to see that the agents were preparing to place him in a chamber. He could see the handcuffs, as they carried it into the special room for him, and he could see the small IV- like tubes he knew held sedation. He had transferred before, and it had been a more pleasant experience than the normal day for him. He wouldn't feel a thing, although they would allow only his arm to heal before he went in- wait it had, and he was now flexing his regrown hand, complete with the scars and marks it had had before. They were careful, unlike usual, but they didn't want anything to get messed up. Even if the handcuffs and restraints were ghost proof, it was the time when he could get out. If he could.

He knew- they knew- that he was too feeble to go far, too disoriented from so long in torture and inside, and just too traumatized to think rationally. They all knew. But the sedatives were still fixed on him, and just because he hadn't resisted in the slightest for so long he jerked, just a little. He was whipped immediately, but for some reason the pain couldn't shove back the sudden, odd hope he could feel, from the remnants of his humanity. He hadn't felt anything like it in a long time, and maybe it was a grin on his face as they let the heavy chains attached to his ankles and wrists down, the handcuffs trapping them together. They inserted the drips into his veins in his legs and arms, and while he didn't flinch at the small bite of pain, he looked up as he suddenly stopped feeling the flow of the fluid into his veins, even though the lines were clearly still attached.

He didn't look up immediately, due to the haze of the anaesthetic that had made it into his body. His mind, too, was slow to process anything other than the flow stopping. But eventually, through the fog, he did glance up. And his eyes, still piercing and ectoplasmic green, focused on the newly arrived figure in front of him with some difficulty. The red eyes and implanted clock in the ever shifting form of his old mentor. It reminded him, for a split second, of the days before the torture and dissections, when he went around in a hazmat suit instead of the more normal outfit his ghost form had taken on now; a light, reinforced and tight fitting black shirt with long sleeves and the DP symbol on the chest and shoulders. His pants were looser and went past the tops of his boots, also black, with white markings going down, forming symbols and runes. The boots were sleek but versatile black as well, with silver soles. He had a cape, as well, white with a hood that could go over his face just enough to shadow it, showing only his spectral green eyes that seemed to leave behind trails when he moved.

He didn't look so amazing now, of course, but he was too busy staring at his old mentor, who had left him all these years to the awful experiences. He didn't know to blame him or not, and he couldn't call the ghost out on it, so he simply stared at the figure until Clockwork made his way forward towards him, eyes glinting sadly down at his old apprentice. "Danny…." Danny just stared. His head had jerked in response to the familiar name being called for the first time in so long, but beyond that he made no move to respond. "Do you hate me, Danny? I'm sure you think it's my fault somehow."

Danny stared at him, but after a long minute, he processed the words. And shook his head slowly back and forth, denying it. He had indeed once cursed the ghost's name, but after a while, he had begun to realize it wasn't his fault. It was only his own, and the following years was only the GIW's. Clockwork seemed surprised at first, but then a faint smile crossed his face as he regarded the young teen's tired eyes. "Danny, the Observants held me back from rescuing you. However, we made a deal. This transport, things will change."

Danny stared, the hope he had moments before slowly trickling back in, but all the torture from the years kept him from trusting those words and the feeling. "Good luck, young Phantom. And trust those new allies, no matter how odd they seem. It's time for a new chapter in your partial life." With that, time clicked back on, and Clockwork disappeared, leaving behind Danny Phantom, whose eyes began to close, leaving behind the waking world for the sleep not afforded him for a long, long time.

 **Should I make this M rated? I'm not sure. There's going to be gore. He's going to go through more shit, rescued or no. Memories, flashbacks, whatever. Intense story-telling. Yay.**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hello, again. Here's more, and I hope you like it. Don't worry about the first paragraph- there will be more detail on the relationships between the members of the Avengers, fluff and angst and storytelling and things, and many will be coming soon, but first Danny must enter stage left. And here, comes the tortured (literally) hero, with a deeper storyline than you may think..._**

 ** _(I don't own anything. Ha.)_**

The Avengers had moved into the Tower some time ago. Tony had persuaded them one by one, and they had eventually all moved in. Of course, they had solved a lot of their old issues too, with Steve and Tony actually shaking hands and agreeing to put their past disagreements behind them. (It had taken some urging, and Tony was in enough of a nice mood to agree to actually shaking hands, even if he did consider it taking symbolism too far.) Bruce and Tony had become 'Best Science Bros', in Tony's opinion, and Bruce went along with it fairly well. Clint, he was always a better team player and fellow housemate than he had let on. And if Natasha had become ever so slightly softer and more willing to trust, well, they didn't really say much about that. Shield, too, had stopped sending them on cases quite so much- although they still did missions frequently enough, it was rare for them to do the mission all together anyways.

Which was why it was a surprise when Fury called for them all to gather in the briefing room for an important mission. They gathered there quickly enough, Steve, of course, coming in first and the last was Thor, who had forgotten about the meeting momentarily upon seeing that the supply of Poptarts had been restocked.

They had assembled in the meeting room faster than usual, seeing that it was Fury himself who had summoned them, not Maria Hill or Coulson. Their two 'handlers' were also waiting in the room, which cemented the importance of the mission to come. Fury waited until they all sat down, then stepped forward and cleared his throat to begin the summary of the mission. "Pay attention, all of you. This mission is of the top importance. In fact, it could change a lot of things around here, if my guess is right."

Steve, frowning in contemplation, took the pause as a chance to ask questions. "What would it change, Director?"

Fury pressed a button on a console, and images came up on the screen, blurred behind a logo saying, "Guys In White".

"The Guys In White are an old experimental branch of the American government who were shut down recently due to inhumane research and attempts to build weaponry using this research of or from certain special individuals."

Clint's head shot up at hearing the GIW's name, eyes narrowing. "Hey, aren't those the guys who blew up Amity Park so they could capture the ghosts there?"

Fury nodded at him, grateful for once in the other's explanation. "Indeed. Now,"

He clicked the button again and the logo faded to reveal the snapshots behind it; of dissection tables with ectoplasm dripping down them and the bodies of ghosts still on them, some clearly in their last throes before ending. Others showed the scientists in their all white uniforms holding ecto guns or with their fronts splattered with the green ghost blood. "These are some of the leaked photos that helped the rest of the government get clearance to shut them down. There are more, and worse, in the file folder if you feel the need to examine their wrongdoing further."

Steve took a peek into the folder, with the rest of the team watching him out of the corners of their eyes, and all, even Natasha, decidedly set their own folders aside when he paled and flipped it shut quickly. When a WWII veteran, who had seen horrors beyond what most had, reacted like that, they took it as a sign that they need not check themselves. Clint raised his hand again, and spoke without acknowledgment from Fury. "So what's the deal? I mean, that's really bad, but they got shut down, so what's the problem?"

"That's the problem. We have photo and video proof that a branch of the GIW escaped with what is definitely their most important subject." He pressed the button once again, and a blurry video began to play. It showed more of the white-clad men carrying a human- sized container. They loaded it onto a white truck, and it seemed they were careful with it, securing it in the truck with hooks.

Fury rewinded the video to when the men were still loading the container into the truck; he paused it and looked back to the Avengers. "The shipment contains their final and most important subject in the GIW. He- yes, the ghost is considered male, I'll get more into that later- has been in their possession for a while over two years now. From what files that we could recover, he's been tortured, experimented on, dissected, and has been almost completely stripped of will to live. Now, this isn't unlike all of the others. Except this one has, unlike the other ghosts, two special things about him. One of these things blows everything we thought we knew about ghosts out of the water."

Tony shifted around, not enjoying the dramatic buildup. Everyone, at this point, was hooked on Fury's words. "So what's the deal? He's the lost soul of some ancient guy or something?"

Fury scowled. "No. The fact of the matter is, the ghost is partly alive as well. And because of that, he's as sentient as you or me; in fact, he used to be a hero himself." The room stilled, and the heroes all had various looks of shock on their faces. Tony was the first to respond, torn between curiosity and disbelief.

"Wait, you're saying that the dead guy is actually alive? Am I the only one thinking we've mixed something up here?"

Steve spoke up too, brows furrowed, "If he was, or is, a hero, then why is he being treated like this?"

Fury held up his hand for silence before the others could break into the conversation. "I'm getting to that. Now, before he was captured, he was a hero that protected Amity Park, going by the name of 'Phantom'."

Clint shot up, eyes widening, "I heard about him! They said he was ended like the others in the explosion, though!"

"That was false," Fury clicked the button yet again and a picture of a teen with white hair and green eyes appeared on the screen. He was obviously quite ethereal, and as they gazed at the picture another picture popped up next to it, of what seemed to be the exact same teen, only with black hair and blue eyes. "This is Phantom, one as him in his ghost form, and the other as his original, human form, as Daniel Fenton. From what we could see in the information, he could shift from form to form. However, it seems that over time in the GIW's possession, as he grew weaker, he began to stay in his Phantom form nearly constantly, and exhibited more and more ghostly traits, but didn't lose his humanity. He survived the blast due to his ghost side's endurance, but was unable to resist capture by the corrupt GIW."

Steve looked at the young man's face sadly, and he could tell from the slight softening of his teammate's eyes that they felt much the same as him. It was easy to connect the dots between the acclaimed torture and the deterioration of the boy's condition in the reports, and all of them had had some form of torture situations over the years- but none of them had ever been dissected, and Steve recalled the glimpse of photos in the file with horror. Steve leaned forward, determined, and cut to the chase.

"How can we help him?"

His team nodded their support, and from the soft grin on Agent Hill's face, the subtle relaxation in Coulson's, and the slight smirk on Fury's, he knew they had walked into their trap of sorts. But since the three were being so open with them, it was clear they had the same goal in mind, even if it had some detours. "I want you all to intercept the truck and bring back Phantom safely. He'll be staying at the tower, since that'll be the safest place for him, unless he shows signs of being too far gone to save. Your mission afterwards is to rehabilitate him. Help him recover from the torture."

Natasha gave him an evaluating look. She actually felt bad for the teen. She understood how it felt to have people trying to break you, make you what they wanted. If he really was standing up to them, after the obviously extensive trauma the reports told of, she had no problem with helping. However, she could tell that there was a catch.

"What would be done with him once he recovers, Director Fury?"

He gave them a slightly bigger smirk, then switched off the screen so it once again displayed the Avenger's logo. He pointed to it, and said, "The Avengers Initiative could always use a new team member."

There was a pause, and they took it in. Honestly, it wasn't the worst idea. Compared to other missions, it ranked pretty high on the good side of morals. Fury looked at them again, this time with less bargaining in his face and actually some genuine lenience. "We won't try to rush anything concerning his recovery, and it'll be his choice to join or not. We can offer to take him in as a regular agent, if need be. However, your mission priority right now is to simply rescue him safely and neatly. Capturing the GIW rogues would be an added plus, but don't worry about it if they pull out ecto weapons. It's more important to retrieve Phantom."

Tony held up his hand, "Wait, wait, wait. I can get behind the whole 'save-the-kid' thing, but why at the tower? I really don't think living with us is a good idea for a traumatized kid."

Bruce nodded, looking down at his hands. "And what if the other guy…," He muttered, only to be cut off by Fury. "Apparently one of his powers is to be intangible- the Hulk can't hurt him if he can't touch him. And Stark, the tower is simply the safest place for his own safety. Not only are you also heroes, but you can protect him from the outside world while protecting the outside world from him. It's the best idea we've got, and seeing how you've all taken to him without even meeting him, it seems like a pretty good one."

Steve nodded and stood up, leading the others to stand up as well. "Do we have the location of the truck, sir?"

"Yes. The silver sedan outside has a mapping feature that will lead you to it. I think we can trust you to think up a nice little battle plan, Captain. Also, you can return straight to the tower when you get him. You have proper medical stations there, after all." Fury left the room, Hill and Coulson trailing behind him.

The Avengers sat, for a moment, in silence, processing the load of information dumped on them so quickly. Clint, who had opened the folder and skipped past the gory pictures, was now gazing at the file information that Shield had managed to retrieve from the destroyed GIW database. They didn't show a good prognosis, as he was saying to the team when they clambered on board to the sedan.

"In fact, this kid should be dead way too many times over, guys. Geez, it says here they've even cut limbs off and shit, only for them to reform. Is the kid even gonna want to live?"

Steve looked down, until Bruce volunteered his own opinion. "I think it'll take time. But I've seen some horrible cases before, and honestly it depends on the person. For now, let's just hope he hasn't been ended, and that we can rescue him safely."

Steve looked at Bruce from the driver's seat questioningly. "What does 'ended' mean? Clint, you said that earlier, didn't you?"

"Yeah. It's the word for when a ghost dies. Cause, you know they're supposed to be already dead, so they probably figured another word would work better."

Steve nodded. "I see. Let's hope he's fine. At least, not any worse than the reports say. By the way, Tony, can you hear us clearly?" Tony had the job of flying along near them stealthily (Hey, he could do that too. It's just that he didn't normally.)

A surprisingly clear voice sounded over the radio. "Yeah, Spangles. Sure can. It's a left there, by the way. Ooh… might wanna work on those reflexes."

Steve sighed, and reversed on the empty road to go down the road he'd just missed.

"Okay, from my view, we're coming up on the truck… geez, looks like there's only two guys driving it… how big was the branch that went rogue?"

"Are they the only people?"

"Hang on.." Tony focused on the truck, searching for lifesigns. He found only the two agents, and was worried for a few moments, until JARVIS detected a faint signature that was probably the half-dead child's. "There's only the two agents, and a really small signature, probably the kid. I think they're stopping, actually."

The people in the car shot to alertness, even Bruce snapping to attention. Steve slowed the car down, carefully drifting behind some cover. "Tell us when is best to strike. Remember, capture the agents for questioning, and Bruce, stay behind until we've taken care of any threats. Tell us when the moment comes, Tony."

They waited a few seconds tensely, until Tony finally called for the attack. The agents, who had gotten out of the truck and seemed to be heading for the back of the truck, were obviously startled when they turned to see the Avengers, minus Bruce, lined up in costume giving them their worst glares. And coming from the Black Widow and Captain America, worst glares were absolutely petrifying.

The agents had no time to resist when suddenly, they were being tied up together, after being shocked by Natasha's electric wires. The two struggled little, intimidated by the Avengers, which only intensified when Tony swooped down. Steve stepped forward, full commanding mask of Captain America firmly in place, and leaned over them threateningly.

"Are you agents," He practically snarled, "The ones transporting Phantom?"

The other Avengers gave him half-shocked looks at the sound of him giving the two no mercy, but he didn't care, and the others felt more like joining him. Agent O shivered and scowled. "The scum? That thing isn't worth it. Why would the Avengers be interested in a monster like that?" Agent K nodded in confirmation. The words of the agent had struck a chord in the Avengers, all who had heard words like that directed to them at some point in their lives.

Steve actually had to lead them away from the agents, even though he himself wanted to punch them. He turned to the agents once they had gotten to the truck doors.

Steve called, "Is he in here?"

The agents scowled back at him, which was an answer in itself. There was a bolt on the doors, but Steve easily pried apart the doors with his hands, revealing the container they had seen on the video, securely fastened into the back of the truck. The truck itself was only big enough for Steve, Bruce, and Natasha to fit in, and they were the ones most important in getting the kid out, awake or no.

Natasha picked the locks on the door, and Steve once again carefully and slowly drew them apart. They all gasped at what was inside.

There hung Phantom, from chains that were obviously tearing at his wrists, dangling unconsciously. His black shirt and white cape had reverted to scraps of coloured ectoplasm, although his pants stayed intact, and the absence of the top revealed horrible scars. They stared at his torso, eyes tracing over marks of impalement, stab wounds, gashes, even bruises around the boy's neck. But worst of all was the clear Y-mark on the boy's chest, defining exactly what he had been through in the two years or so he had been a specimen. His limbs seemed intact, proving Clint's talk about his restoration of limbs, although there were power saw marks on his shoulders, elbows, wrists, and even fingers, making him look like a puppet, dangling unused from strings.

He was also severely underweight, on level with the starving children Bruce had seen in his travels. IV drips ran into both of his arms, and Bruce snapped out of his daze upon seeing them, rushing forward to check the labels on the bags containing the fluid. He looked back up at Steve and Natasha. They looked back at him, still stunned by the sight of Phantom.

"It's just sedatives," sighed Bruce, "But they're nearly out… he should wake up eventually. I had more in the car; should I get them so he keeps calm during the trip back?"

Before they could make the decision, Phantom groaned. All of their gazes snapped to his face, as he slowly raised his head, shimmering silver hair falling out of the way of his face. He had almost no scars on his face, only one very light one going horizontally from his forehead down by his eye to his cheek. His shockingly green eyes opened slightly, regarding the people before him with little care.

He didn't even seem to really register them through his bleary gaze, just staring almost through them with a deadened look. It was almost worse than the scars, and all three of them had sudden memories of their past when they had seen similar gazes. Steve; when he had stumbled upon a concentration camp with the Commandos, Natasha; during her time in the Red Room, when she had looked in the mirror, and Bruce; looking into the eyes of people who had seen tragedy and poverty unlike no other.

They snapped out of it when the boy wheezed suddenly, and Bruce rushed forward to help him, stethoscope appearing out of a messenger bag at his side. As he brought the stethoscope forward to Phantom, however, the boy flinched away almost unconsciously, causing Bruce to pause. Phantom would definitely have gotten further away if he could, but the awfully heavy looking chains had stopped him.

"Hey, now," Bruce said softly, hands held out in the air as a gesture of peace, "I'm here to help you, okay? We're here to rescue you from the GIW."

From the name of the GIW alone, the boy shuddered and leaned away, obviously no more aware of the situation than when he had first awoken. Bruce looked even more worried at the lack of response other than base fear beaten into the boy, and tried to persuade him again. "Where does it hurt, Phantom?"

At the name, Phantom's eyes widened slightly, but they eased back and he didn't respond other than that. Suddenly, Steve recalled something they had discussed in the car earlier, something may help them get through to the child if he had responded to his hero name.

 _Clint rifled carefully through the files, wincing when it mentioned about the boy's parents hunting him, although mistakenly. He could imagine all too well how Phantom had felt when they had shot at him with ectoplasm guns; the fear he must have felt in his own home, with his parent's constant rants against ghosts and especially his own ghostly side. As he leafed through, however, he noticed something interesting. It wasn't all that important, but it was one of those things that made the child that much more a person. A nickname. It was simple, but it made them all realize, when Clint mentioned it, just how horrible it all was. He was barely even a teen, really, and he had gone through horrors all of them combined hadn't experienced. A simple name, really, but it had meant enough to the boy to keep it in both forms. Danny._

Steve figured he might as well try it. Nothing else was getting through to the poor hybrid. He walked forward, and crouched down so he could peer at Phantom's face for a reaction.

"Hey, Danny."

The name had an immediate effect on Phantom. His eyes shot open, staring at Steve with sudden clarity. He made to talk, but only managed to wheeze until he managed to finally gasp out a word past his bruised throat, "You…."

Steve smiled up at him warmly, not one of his nice media smiles as Captain America, but a genuine smile, one that the other Avengers claimed could make anyone smile back. Danny's lips twitched ever so slightly upwards in response, his eyes doing the smiling for him.

"Who…?" Bruce stepped closer, obviously relieved, giving Steve a thankful glance on the way. Danny gave him a cautious look, definitely about to retreat back into his mental shell, but Bruce gave him a small smile as well, nervous but honest, and he relaxed a little. Bruce crouched down next to Danny, and Steve got up to make room for him. Danny looked after him, worried, and looked even more nervous when he saw Natasha. Bruce, kneeling next to him, made a small sound in his throat to snap the boy's attention back to him.

"Hello, there, Danny," He said softly, "Have you ever heard of a group of heroes called the Avengers?" Danny looked lost in thought for a long moment, and they were beginning to get worried when he looked back up, eyes wide. "You're…?"

"Yeah, Danny. We're here to rescue you, okay? So can I please treat your wounds and get you out of those chains?"

They thought he would immediately accept, but Danny looked skeptical. "...Why..?"

Steve was confused, but surprisingly enough, it was Natasha who responded. "Why wouldn't we? You don't deserve this- nobody does, especially a hero like you."

Suddenly, the boy looked miserable, and his next words were said so quietly that it was a miracle they could all hear him.

"But… I failed… didn't I… my town, it…"

They remembered, then, about the explosion that had taken everything from the child. It had seemed like almost nothing to them compared to the torture afterwards, but he clearly thought of it as a lot more. It made sense; in fact, to Steve it made far too much sense, and the others had clearly made the connection too, but he only smiled gently at the abused hybrid. "One failure doesn't break a hero. All of us have had our failures over the years, too. And it definitely doesn't mean you don't deserve help."

He could see Natasha and Bruce giving him little grins, but his attention was on Danny, who nodded slowly, hair in his face again.

Bruce slowly got out his stethoscope, but paused. "Do you want us to get you out of those chains first? We can go outside, if you want. The rest of the Avengers are waiting out there to help us get to the tower safely. We can help you recover there."

Danny raised his face up again, and Bruce felt his heart clench at the shock and disbelief written clearly on it. "...Why… for me…? I'm… barely even… human… can't… even change… back right… now…" Bruce suddenly looked more concerned, making Steve and Natasha feel a twist of nervousness in their guts. Bruce leaned forward slightly, gaining Danny's full attention. "From what I heard, your ghost side only stays like this when you're too hurt to be in your human form. What's making your condition so bad?"

Danny shook his head wearily. They could see talking so much and moving was taking its toll. "I… no, uhm… lot of places… where it hurts... "

They could see that. But Bruce needed to know more specific details. "Where does it hurt the most? Also, when have you last eaten, drunk, or slept or than them knocking you out?"

Danny looked confused for a moment, either at the sudden questions or the fact that someone actually cared. It took a few moments, but he began to talk again, head practically lolling at this point. "I… my chest, uh… I haven't… they don't let me… sleep… no food or… water… haven't been able to… sleep at all...recently… ghost side's gotten… stronger..." Well. That one kind of floored them all. Bruce, face paling almost as much as Danny's had, asked, with a trembling voice, "Do you, er, know how long you've been captured?"

"I… no…"

"It's been about two years now, Danny," Bruce said, but Steve and Natasha knew their teammate, and knew the bombshell was about to drop. "But, uh, you don't seem like you've aged."

Steve and Natasha froze, remembering the pictures of Danny as Phantom from just before he'd been captured; and comparing the photo to the kid before them, they looked exactly the same age, even if the Danny before them looked far worse off. Danny just nodded, apparently already realizing this. Steve realized, with a start, that they had been so focused on Bruce's revelations that he hadn't noticed something far more pressing.

"Danny," He gasped, eyes wide, "Why aren't you breathing?"

Danny didn't even flinch when Bruce held up his stethoscope to his chest, far too tired but managed to get out a very sleepy, "I forgot again…"

He started breathing again, and Bruce sat back, looking stressed. "He doesn't have a heart beat, and he's far too cold too… it seems like his ghost side really has become more of an influence on him."

Natasha slipped up to the heavy chains the boy hung from and began to pick them. Both Steve and Bruce noticed, in a small moment, that her face was softer than they had ever seen as she undid the locks quickly, allowing the now slumbering hybrid's body to fall into her arms. She handed him over to Steve slowly, and he hefted the starved, ethereal body without effort, carefully supporting his head. Bruce examined the place quickly before getting ready to leave as well. As they vacated the truck, blinking in the sudden light, they were surrounded by their teammates.

They all stilled, however, upon seeing the broken, starved body of Danny carefully cradled in Steve's arms.

"Jesus..," muttered Tony, "I haven't wanted to punch someone as much as I want to punch those agents in a long time."

Thor grumbled behind him, face a virtual storm of frustration. "I must agree with the man of iron. These men have committed an injustice beyond even my brother's." For once, nobody disagreed.

Clint however, was absolutely speechless. Just looking at the kid's ravaged body was enough to make the blood roar in his ears, make him want to pick up his bow and shoot the agents. He didn't, though, perhaps only because of Natasha's hand on his arm, and the knowledge that they could fix the kid. Clint had the task of loading the two bound agents into their trunk, which he did with glee, and as roughly as he could without getting a scolding look from Steve. Which made the fact that he may have broken some of their bones and could have gone on without getting a single glance from Steve a bit odd.

But then, seeing how sad the soldier looked when he glanced down at the sleeping hybrid in his arms, Clint found himself not thinking it odd at all. Neither did the rest of the team. They had a similar seating situation in the sedan, only now Thor held a tiny body in his godly arms, carefully adjusting whenever they hit a bump.

It was a testament to the god's gentleness and Steve's driving skills that, even in the pot-holed, neglected roads, Danny never fell out of Thor's arms or winced in pain. Instead, he slept all the way to the Tower. They had also discussed what had occurred in the truck, and had slowly gotten a plan together for caring for their new ward of sorts. Bruce, of course, would be the main caretaker for him, being an actual doctor and all, although the others would help the best they could. They had all seen how the assassins had been taken with him, and the super soldier as well, and even the genius had shown care for him.


End file.
